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1.
You’re just a tiny bit suspicious at this point. It was happenstance the first time you passed the trio of delinquents while on your way to a cat cafe. It was a coincidence when they were behind you while you were at a thrift store, looking at cheap books. It was creepy when you spotted them, again, when you were taking a walk by yourself at the park.
It doesn’t help that this has been spread out over the course of a month. It feels targeted, and you wonder if you’re the doppelgänger for someone who owes them money.
There’s this really tall one, and you think he has to be the leader. Maybe if it had been just the one in glasses, you would’ve politely mentioned that it wasn’t okay to follow girls around or maybe had your cousin come with you next time to scare them off.
It happens again. You’re just trying to mind your business, reading one of the books you picked up recently outside at the park, which is maybe how they found you again. You might be a little too predictable because it’s not like you know these guys.
The tall one, who you assume is the leader, blocks off your sunlight when he approaches you, casting a towering shadow from where you’re relaxing on a blanket, trying to enjoy the warm summer sun.
You blink up at him, and he shuffles a little to block the sun out of your eyes better, so that you can see him and not the faintest outline of a menacing figure. Shaved sides to his head, orange mullet, and bulging biceps. He looked every part of the delinquent you had coined him as, and then he spoke up, “Hey, excuse me, miss?”
Well, that was certainly a lot politer than you expected. You reply a little tentatively, hoping it’s still a case of mistaken identity, “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry to take up your time, but my friend over there thinks you’re cute.”
You follow his gesture. It’s the shortest of the trio, the one with thick glasses. You watch him quickly drop the cigarette he was smoking, stomping it out, all while staring at you very directly. That was way too aggressive of eye contact.
“Uh, what’s wrong with him?”
“There’s nothing wrong with him. Does there look like there’s something with him?”
You look again. He’s covered in bandages, and you think that’s the most threatening attempt at a smile you’ve ever had the misfortune of seeing. He looks slightly disturbed, and you feel very disturbed just holding eye contact with him. You splutter out, “Yes!”
The final one of the trio finally pops up, voice muffled by the black mask he pulled over his mouth. “Don’t you know who that is? He’s the head of-“
You watch in horror as the big guy shoves the guy wearing the mask so hard that he hits the ground at least a couple feet away with an oomph noise. Then he chuckles nervously, “What he means is that you don’t know who he is, so you should consider getting to know him?”
You glance back over to the guy with glasses again. He’s somehow stepped a bit closer when your eyes weren’t on him, but at least, he stopped the creepy smile. You clear your throat nervously, “Is this like a threat or something?”
“No! Nope, not at all! I promise! Just trying to help my homeboy out, you know?”
“He couldn’t come talk to me himself?”
“Well, he’s…shy?”
You blink in confusion. How did the guy get even closer? You looked away for like a second. He’s basically right behind the tall guy now. You can see suspicious brown spots on his white button up. You cough, “Is that blood on your shirt?”
The tall guy steps aside to let the one with glasses take his place towering over you. He replies in a cold tone, “Did it hurt?”
“Huh?” you ask, mostly to seem polite as you slowly pack up your belongings. That kind of seems like a threat.
“When you fell.”
“I didn’t fall. He did?”
He just stares blankly at you, not even bothering to look over at the guy who just got laid out.
“I’m just gonna go,” you say slowly, not even bothering to fold your blanket before you’re basically running away from that entire reaction. You have to step around the guy still on the ground, complaining he got dirt on his clothes.
You can feel someone staring you down the entire walk away, and you feel the need to go grab a jacket or something because it just got a little chilly out.
2.
You can’t find your book anywhere, which is a real bummer because you were just getting to a really good part. You also don’t want to just go out and buy a new book because you’re convinced it’s just under your bed or something. You’ll have to ask someone else to look, just so it can pop up magically on your desk and make you look like a fool.
You know it’s a long shot, but you also try to check around the tree you were reclining by at the park when those weird guys approached you.
When neither of those plans yields anything, you decide it’s probably time to admit it disappeared into the ether along with your left sock and several phone chargers.
It’s another nice day out, so you decide to sip your smoothie outside in the sun, even as the cup bleeds condensation down the side and your smoothie melts a little faster than you can drink it.
There’s an umbrella overhead, but it doesn’t do much to shield the heat, just the light. It also doesn't shield you from sight, which you’re beginning to regret when the glasses guy who asked if you fell comes out of nowhere and steps really close to you.
You tilt your head back just to see him, but your neck kind of hurts already from trying to get a good look. You just give up and go back to drinking your smoothie after asking, “Hello?”
“Hi.”
You’re both silent for a moment. Usually when someone approaches someone else, they explain why, but you guess this guy was lacking in social skills. You probably should’ve figured that out from his friend trying to wingman him combined with your previously weird exchange with him. “Can I help you?”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
“What?” he asks sharply.
You wince. He sounded so mean. You carefully slide your chair back a little bit, putting some space between you both. You laugh nervously, mostly to fill the silence that settled over you both again.
You think that was an attempt to smile, but it looked more like a menacing smirk again. Did no one teach this boy how to smile without it looking like he was threatening your life while doing it?
“Do you want to sit down?” you ask cautiously, mostly because him towering over you makes you nervous.
He plops down in the seat next to you really quickly. You introduce yourself next, and he answers, “I know.”
You have maybe half your smoothie left. If you chug it, you can leave. The normal response from the guy would’ve been to introduce himself back, and that seems to dawn on him after a long minute of more silence.
“Wolf Keum,” he tells you, pointing at himself.
“Nice to meet you?”
“Okay.”
He was, by the far, the worst conversationalist you have ever come across in your entire life. You gave up after that, and he seemed content to just sit by you while you attempted to set a new world record of fastest smoothie chug.
When you’re about to get up and leave, telling him that you need to go, he slaps down a sheet of paper and warns you, “If you ever want to see your book again, you’ll call this number.”
As you take the paper, Wolf gets up and leaves. He’s gone before you can ask for clarification because his handwriting was really bad. That seven might actually be a one, and you might have called both the numbers, except you don’t really know if that is a nine or a four, and actually, the five is starting to look like a six the longer you stare at it.
It creates too many possibilities, and you give up. It seems you will have to accept that your book is lost.
3.
Wolf approaches you again, but it’s less of an approach and more of a raging bull storming towards you. You half expect to get punched as he demands, “You didn’t call me.”
Your friend gives you a look that says that you’re on your own before she disappears into the depths of the mall.
He’s really got a nose for finding you. You have no clue how he does it, and you’re a little too scared to ask.
Instead, you politely say, “I was going to, but I couldn’t read the handwriting.”
“Oh.”
“I would still like my book back though,” you add on. You haven’t been able to find a cheap replacement yet.
“What are you doing?” he asks, instead of acknowledging that you wanted your belongings back that he is holding hostage.
“I’m trying to pick out a new phone case because mine cracked.”
He nods along like that makes sense, and then he makes you explain why you picked up each phone case that you did while you were browsing. You get the feeling that he is genuinely curious about what is interesting to you, so you reply to explain what aspect of the design you like, along with why it’s not what you were going to get though.
By the end, you’ve gone through a ridiculous amount of phone cases, and he’s still just hanging out beside you. He answers very little when you try to ask him questions about what he was doing or what he liked phone case wise.
Wolf crouches down, and you nearly trip over him since he did it directly in front of your feet. Then he rises back up, standing far too close to you. You’re beginning to think he has no clue what personal space is.
He holds out his prize for you to inspect, and you take it tentatively. It’s the best phone case you’ve seen all day, almost perfectly matching what you were hoping for.
“Nice find! Thank you!” you say cheerfully, happy to have something protecting your phone again.
He scratches at the back of his head, looking over your head awkwardly.
You could’ve made things simple and just asked for his number again, but instead, he watched with interest as you managed to dig out a sharpie from your bag. You ask him, “Can I see your hand?”
“Why?” Wolf asks, even though his hand is already out and waiting for you.
“You’ll see,” you promise.
His skin is rough as you flip his hand over, and you have to force him to straighten out his fingers to reveal more of his palm. Then you write down your number for him, and ask, “You call me, and we’ll figure out when I get that book back, okay?”
He squints at the numbers on his hand before quickly agreeing, “Okay.”
“I’ll talk to you later!”
He nods, glancing up at you for a moment before right back to his hand.
“Bye, Wolf!” You wave goodbye and go to check out. He’s still looking at his palm when you turn the aisle to leave.
4.
You get a phone call immediately after you leave the store, though all you get is odd breathing at the other end until you ask tentatively, “Is this Wolf?”
“Yes.”
There’s a long moment of silence before you decide to ask, “Did you need my number for something?”
He answers, “Do you want your book back or not?”
“Oh! Yes, please. Do you want to meet up later and give it back to me?”
“Tomorrow,” he replies harshly, and then the phone clicks off.
You stare blankly at the black screen of your phone. Tomorrow was not a lot of information to go off of. For example, what time tomorrow? Also, what location? Those were two very basic components that you had no clue on.
He must realize that too because he calls again, and he doesn’t bother with a hello as he demands, “Tomorrow, at the park, at four.”
Then he hangs up again, and you’re still just so confused. At least, you have a time and place, but you don’t know what you’re exchanging for this book. He made it seem like this was a very threatening thing. You hope he doesn’t threaten to kill your book if you don’t offer up enough money.
You really hope it’s just him. He seems much less scary, and just way more awkward, than his leader of his little trio. You don’t really know what his deal is in the first place, but he is sure interesting. He does a lot of staring at you whenever you bump into him.
He’s waiting for you under the very tree where you met him last time, and there’s a blanket under him as he naps against the tree trunk. You approach a little cautiously, clearing your throat before greeting him, “Wolf?”
“What?” he snapped until he blinked up at you, then he corrected, “Sit down.”
You slowly sit down on the opposite edge of the blanket, as he continues to stare you down. Then he slowly slides your book over to you. Your fingers brush over his as you take it from him, and you give your best, most thankful smile as you tell him, “I appreciate you finding my book.”
“Read it.”
“Right now?”
“Out loud.”
Well, he seemed pretty dead set on hearing you read this book. You start from the beginning, feeling incredibly nervous as you slowly narrate for him. His eyes slide closed as he listens, and you think he might be sleeping until your voice trails off, and he asks, “Why did you stop?”
You laugh nervously, explaining, “My voice is starting to hurt, but if you like the book, you can borrow it from me when I’m done with it.”
“Okay,” he answers before rising to his feet. He nudges you off the blanket with an expensive looking shoe. You feel like you’ve seen that brand before, but you can’t recall for sure.
His grip on your arm is like iron as he hauls you up to your feet without any warning, and without any of your own help. He must be strong if he’s able to haul up your dead weight like that. He tentatively slides his hand down your arm before gripping your hand in his, and you remember his friend saying that Wolf thought you were cute.
He stares at you with narrowed eyes for a reaction, and you look back at him. Yeah, he was a little weird, but he was also kind of cute, if you squinted and ignored that might be blood on his shirt.
Fluffy, messy hair, a peculiar shade of purple, and smooth, pale skin only disrupted by his bandage on his face. His scowl was still attractive, even though it wrinkled his forehead and his eyes. His eyes behind those boxy, geeky glasses were really pretty, a dark hazel in color, looking almost gray in most lighting, framed with unfairly dark and long lashes. He has a nice shape to him too. He’s tallish, wide shoulders, long legs, slender stomach, and you think he seems pretty strong actually.
He doesn’t lecture you for staring at him, though he has been holding your hand for the entire experience. Once you’re done inspecting him, he drags you along until he finds a boba tea place. He insists you pick out what you want before he pays for you. Then you’re both sitting on a park bench as you sip your boba tea.
“Was this a date?” you ask quietly.
“You’re not on the menu.”
“Huh?”
He growls in annoyance, “That’s not how it’s supposed to go. Are you on the menu?”
“No?”
“Because there is me and you right now.”
You blink at him before asking, “Was that a pick up line because I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to go?”
“Yes.”
It’s making so much more sense right now. You think he was originally asking if it hurt when you fell from heaven, but he completely skipped the heaven part.
You ask, “Do you have a map?”
“No, but you can get directions on my phone,” he replies, glancing away to dig out his phone for you.
“Because I’ve been lost in your eyes all day.”
He pauses, and you watch in surprise as his ears go bright pink. You have another sip as you explain, “That’s how pick up lines are supposed to work.”
Wolf goes quiet, thinking, and then he doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the date. He walks you back to your neighborhood though, so you don’t think he’s bored of you or anything. He seemed content to just be quiet and think while you left him be. You wonder if you’ll get another date with the guy because this one hadn’t gone so bad. He wasn’t as threatening as he initially appeared.
5.
It was all a lie. Wolf is just as threatening as he appeared. It seems that while it wasn’t coincidence earlier on when you were being followed around by his little trio, this certainly was.
Imagine your horror at walking into a literal fist fight. You have no words. You turned the corner, saw Wolf, who you think might actually be the leader of his little gang, punching some guy, and then you slowly stepped back around the corner and considered if you needed to change your phone number.
It was one thing to suspect he was a violent delinquent based on the fact you saw him in bandages more often than not, and it was another to see it first thing. It just kind of slipped your mind given you had watched him struggle to understand how pick up lines worked. He was just so uncool when he spoke to you, but he was very spooky when he was literally fighting someone in a back alleyway.
You spent too long internally contemplating because Wolf tears around the corner, nearly knocking you over. He steps on your foot as he knocks into you, stopping you from stepping backwards to catch yourself, instead, sending you toppling over. On your way down, he tries to help, but you just accidentally smack him in the face before landing on your ass, staring up at him with his glasses slightly askew.
“My bad,” he says in a flat voice. He reaches down to help you back to your feet before pausing, looking at his hand. You watch him casually wipe his knuckles on his shirt before trying again, hauling you back up to your feet.
“Guess you could say I just fell for you,” you reply, watching in amusement as his ears go pink.
He tries to lean against the wall, but it’s a little further than he expected, stumbling a little bit until he bumps into the wall ungracefully. You try to peek over his shoulder because you think you just saw a flash of orange hair, but he huffs, “What are you doing right now?”
“I was going to go get snacks. What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” you counter.
Wolf is silent for a moment before telling you, “I was making friends.”
You don’t think making friends include beating someone up, but you’re just glad he wasn’t attempting to make friends with you. You wonder what the process of becoming his best friend was like because it had to be painful.
“Well, I’m going to go pick up some snacks,” you say, trying to move around Wolf who seems to be attempting to smile at you again. He really needs to work on that. Every single time he does it, you’re convinced you’re going to end up in a true crime documentary.
He steps in front of you, and when you try to go the other way, he blocks that route too. It’s kind of an amusing game for the first two minutes of him attempting to get in your way while you try to get around him before you finally ask, “Would you like to come with me, Wolf?”
Wolf stops blocking your path to answer, “Sure, I guess if you want me to.”
You get another interrogation as you pick out your snacks. He really wants to know why you like one flavor of ice cream over the other. He starts dragging other things into it too. You’re not even looking at chips right now, but he just needs to know if you prefer spicy or sweet. It would be enough to drive you up a wall. It’s like interacting with a four year old because he just can’t stop asking why.
“What do you like?” you counter.
Sweet silence for a moment before he answers, “Lime popsicles.”
You buy two, and then you sit on the curb beside him eating your popsicles. It keeps him quiet, so you count it as a win. Plus, he had seemed strangely flustered when you told him you got one for him. He was a really blushy guy, and it was pretty endearing. It was less endearing when you saw the orange haired guy and the mask guy looking around a corner at you both, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. You get the feeling that if you keep hanging around Wolf, this sort of thing is going to be happening pretty often.
+1.
“This is my ex-girlfriend,” Wolf introduces.
The confused look on the stranger’s face makes you hurry to correct, “Fianceé! I’m his fianceé.”
“Oh, congratulations?” the stranger answered awkwardly before turning and walking the other way. Wolf had the bad habit of just approaching random people who looked at you for what he decided was too long. It was better than him attempting to fight them, you guess.
“Wolf, I told you to stop introducing me like that,” you sigh.
“But it’s true,” he argues.
“People think we’ve broken up when you do that.”
“Why the hell would we do that?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, reminding yourself that this is what you signed up for. There was no way Wolf was going to be a normal person, and that was obvious from Hwangmo’s first introduction of you two. You still can’t believe he managed to convince you to go out with him in the first place given just how weird he was.
You still have to deal with his failed pick up line attempts, though you’ve gotten better at just laughing and agreeing with whatever he was trying to do. He seemed to appreciate it when you did that, though there was still nothing better than how charmed he was by you dropping pick up lines back.
“I’ll buy you lime popsicles if you stop doing that,” you offer.
His smile is a little twisted because he never learned how to just smile nicely when he answers, “Why would I stop?”
You stare at him, and then it clicks. The bastard was doing it on purpose because he wanted you to call yourself his fianceé to strangers. You knew from the very beginning that something was wrong with him. You honestly can’t believe you let him sucker you in.
“You can’t get rid of me now. It’s too late,” he adds on.
You wouldn’t even want to try to get rid of him, mostly because he’s incredibly obstinate and more resilient than a damn honey badger. You’ve seen him get into one too many fights to think you had a chance of shaking him off at this point. You squeeze his hand from where he stubbornly refused to let you go, even as he dragged you up to strangers to tell them that you’re his ex-girlfriend, reminding him, “Trust me, I know.”